


Siren School

by SassyEggs



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Sansa POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 19:04:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14219745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyEggs/pseuds/SassyEggs
Summary: “Yeah, that whole sitting on rocks and singing thing?""No one really does that anymore.”





	Siren School

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swimmingfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimmingfox/gifts).



**Inspiration for this fic from the comic[Siren School by Isabella Rotman](http://www.isabellarotman.com/siren-school/)**

* * *

 

  
Lesson 1- Find a target  
Lesson 2- Identify his weakness  
Lesson 3- Lay the trap  
Lesson 4- Wait for the Magic Words  
Lesson 5- Seal the deal  
Lesson 6- Don’t fall in love
    
    
     
    .-"\.     .-"\.     .-"\.     .-"\.     .-"\.     
         "-.-"     "-.-"     "-.-"     "-.-"     "-.

The water was especially blue today, just as Sansa liked it, and colorful fish flickered merrily as she glided past. The other girls had gone north, choosing to work together in the colder climes but Sansa… she ventured to the deep south, alone, and focused on replaying Professor Olenna’s lessons in her mind:

_“Alright, ladies. Ladies! Attention, please! These lessons are integral to the passing of your final exams. If you can’t pass the exam, you can’t pass the class, and if you can’t pass the class you have to take it again. And trust me when I say that having to repeat the class is pretty embarrassing, especially when you have to repeat it twice. Right, Margaery?”_

_“The first thing you’re going to want to do is find your target. Now, men are more susceptible when they’re alone so if you can find one by himself then always consider him as an option. But don’t rule out the larger groups either. If you have to, you can separate them.”_

_“Next, you need to identify his weakness, which means you need to figure out what he’s interested in. It doesn’t have to be a major interest, and he doesn’t have to be particularly good or knowledgeable about it. In fact, it’s usually better if he’s not. Give me the note, Margaery, give it here. What have I told you about passing notes in class?”_

_“Once you’ve found the thing to get him talking you have to suddenly lose all knowledge of that thing. In other words, you need to play dumb. Odds are he’s going to correct anything you say anyway, but you still want to make it easy for him. You want to awaken his sense of protection, his urge to domineer. Margaery, if you can’t stop giggling you can wait outside by the reef.”_

_“So how do you know when you’ve got him? It’s what I call the Magic Words, and once you hear them it’s time to finish him off. And what are the Magic Words, Sansa?”_

_“‘Well, actually….’”_

_“Excellent, Sansa, as always. Now this is where it gets tricky. Once you get him feeling like he needs to protect you, you’re going to need his help. And whatever the help is, it has to somehow be in the sea.  Pretending to need help swimming is a popular option, as is asking for surfing lessons, but I’ve also seen girls ask for assistance with finding anything from car keys to sunglasses to priceless jewelry in the ocean.  Anything will work, ladies. Whatever it takes to get him in the water before the day is over. You know what happens then.”_  

 _“Last lesson, and it’s an important one: don’t fall for him. Right now, safe under the sea, it’s easy to think of them as nothing but targets. But once you start talking to them, and once they start talking to you…. well. You don’t want to make that mistake, trust me. If you have to forget any of the lessons you’ve learned today then don’t forget this one, ever. It’s the one lesson that will keep you from being hurt.”_  

_“Alright, ladies, off you go. The final exam is important, and I want you to take it seriously but I don’t want you to worry too much. As long as you demonstrate reasonable proficiency in each lesson and manage to claim your target by sunset, then you will pass.”_

_“And ladies... do remember to have fun.”_

,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸,ø¤°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸

  
`°º¤ø,¸,ø¤°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸

  
ø¤°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸

  
¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸

  
“Hi!”

The man turned sharply to look at her, as if he was only just now seeing her though she’d walked back and forth in front of him half a dozen times already.

“Hi.”

“Is that your dog?”

“No, I found him lying around,” he replied sarcastically; Sansa ground her teeth together but never stopped smiling.

“Really?”

“No, not really,” he grumbled and rolled his eyes back towards the ocean, the conversation seemingly over.

“I’ve been thinking about getting a dog,” she continued, undeterred, then landed on the blanket beside him as gracefully as she was able with her unfamiliar legs. “Something big, so it can protect me and I won’t be so helpless all the time.”

“How’s a dog gonna make you less helpless?”

Sansa balked. That was a pretty logical question, actually, and the only answer she could come up with was a long, loud peal of laughter that sounded ridiculous even to her own ears. His brows shot up; the _‘what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you’_ couldn’t have been more obvious if he had specifically said it.

And then he looked back at the ocean again, effectively dismissing her.

This was not going very well. He’d seemed like the ideal target from a distance- mostly because he was alone- but now that she was here next to him he had an air of solitude that she wasn’t sure she could penetrate. So far the only thing she could tell he had any interest in was the ocean and the dog; she could never pretend to be stupid about the ocean, so it would have to be the dog.

As if on cue, the animal trotted over to where she was sitting and plopped his furry butt up against her leg. Sansa stifled a disgusted groan, forced her hand to pat his dirty head before fumbling for the tag at his neck.

“Stran-Ger,” she mispronounced terribly, and something inside her died. “What kind of name is Sran-Ger?”

Okay, so she _might_ be overdoing the stupidity if his extremely deep, faux-patient breath was any indication.  Surely he would use the Magic Words on her now.

“It’s _Stranger.”_

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he sighed and returned to his previous activity of completely ignoring her.

Blimey, this guy was _impossible._ If Sansa had any sense at all she’d cut her losses and try her luck elsewhere, but with the sun crawling slowly but steadily across the sky and no other men anywhere else on the beach, she was pretty much stuck.  What was she supposed to do now? Professor Olenna had never told them what to do if playing dumb didn’t work; absent any other option, Sansa switched tactics.

“How old is Stranger?” she asked him, dropping the pretext for just a moment; he seemed surprised by her question.

“Uhhh… I’ve had him for seven years now, I think. Feels like longer since he’s a bit of an asshole.”

Sansa laughed. “He can’t be _that_ bad.”

She couldn’t have been more wrong, though, because the man started listing all the things his hairy beast had destroyed: carpet, books, doors, one sofa, three dog beds, an end table, his favorite guitar, several pairs of “boxers,” and an entire pizza including the box on more than one occasion.  

He was a different man once she stopped acting stupid, coming more alive and more pleasant to be around with every word that passed his lips even though he used the most foul language she’d ever heard.  And she tried- she really did- to think of a way to turn his conversation into an urge to protect her, but playing dumb was _exhausting_ work, and he was so much more fun this way that she just couldn’t make herself do it.  

Instead she told him the completely ridiculous but totally true tale of the time Lady slipped into mother’s room, squeezed into the trunk at her parent’s bed through the keyhole to retrieve the incriminating evidence of Sansa’s escapades.  He laughed at all the right places, hung on her every word, and didn’t seem even a little bothered when she casually mentioned that Lady was an octopus.

He watched her while she talked, and she watched him while he talked, and it felt _good_ but it also felt… wrong. Was she supposed to enjoy his company this much? Maybe. Probably? Definitely. Professor Olenna would approve, she was certain, because in the end it would make it easier to seal the deal.

It was for that reason alone that she accepted when he offered to buy her a drink.

¸.·´¯`·.´¯`·.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸><(((º>

¸.·´¯`·.¸><(((º>

.´¯`·.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸><(((º>

¸><(((º>

His name was Sandor and he had the look of the deep to him, with sea-urchin-black hair and eyes like mako but deadlier, and muscled like he spent a lifetime swimming. If it wasn’t for the slick scars blurring one side of his face she would say he looked like Triton, could almost imagine him putting a conch shell to his lips.

And he was nice. Gruff, grumbly, judgmental… but also weirdly nice.

“How is it?” he asked, nodding at her glass.

“It’s delicious!”

It was disgusting. _‘Sex on the Beach’_ sounded like the perfect drink for a siren- effervescent and seductive, surely- but what arrived in front of her was treacly sweet and violently colored.   

“You don’t _have_ to drink it.”

Sansa took one last poke at the ice cubes in her drink, gave her companion a wry smile, then pushed the glass away. She hoped it didn’t offend him.  He was trying to be nice, after all, and… oh but why was she even worried about it? She had a job to do and here she was getting distracted by this human’s feelings. Professor Olenna would be horror-struck to see what her best pupil was up to, and she had no intention of letting the old woman down.  

“I just love the beach,” Sansa chirped, high and false. “Don’t you just _love_ the beach?”

She did not just love the beach. It was entirely too bright up here, and the sand that usually felt pillowy soft was hard and harsh wherever she touched it, and the salt dried funny on her skin, and…

“Too salty, too sandy, too sunny.”

 _“What?”_ she laughed, insulted by his answer even though she was just thinking the same thing. “Why are you here, then?”

He shrugged. “It’s pretty.”

"Pretty?"

It was _such_ an odd word coming out of that mouth, so odd that it made her pause. _Pretty._ But… he was right.  As much as she preferred being under the waves she had to admit that from this angle it really _was_ pretty- deep blue as far as she could see kissed here and there by foamy white, and a golden sun that hung low at the horizon tinting everything with a veil of pink.   

Staring out over the water, side by side, she could only think how nice it was they could agree on this, though why that would be nice she could not say.  But then her mind wandered to the lessons and the lore and the fate that awaited this man. To the field trip Professor Olenna had taken them on to see some of the victims previous sirens had brought to the deep. To how all the sirens-in-training had _ooohed_ and _ahhhhed_ at the bones and empty eye sockets, scraps of skin hanging like pauper’s rags that billowed slightly when they swam past. To that weird, heavy feeling in her stomach… what was that? Hunger?

“You hungry?”

“What?”

“Your stomach growled.”

“Oh,” she blushed. “I didn’t notice.”

He huffed a little laugh through his nose.  

“You want some food?”

“Do they, uh... have anything without meat?”

He huffed again.

“Why am I not surprised?” he muttered, remarkably affectionate for something that by all accounts should have sounded like a complaint instead of a compliment. Must have been something about his eyes. Ugh, stupid human eyes, messing with her mind, making her wonder ever-so-briefly what it would be like to be intimate with a human man, as a human woman, above the water.  

Probably more complicated, she decided. And sweaty.   
    
    
    .-"\.     .-"\.     .-"\.     .-"\.     .-"\.     
         "-.-"     "-.-"     "-.-"     "-.-"     "-.

  
“Brought yer chips and salsa, sugar,” the waitress smiled, and dropped a basket of _stuff_ on the bar. She always addressed Sansa when she came by, couldn’t even look at Sandor’s scarred face. Sansa had no such problem- after living a life under the sea, being exposed to all manner of unusual things, she found scars like that more intriguing than terrifying.  

Behind them the sun sunk deeper, the blue of the water grew deeper, and as the evening passed their conversations got deeper. Burned, he’d said. Fire, he’d said. She had no real knowledge of either one of those things though with the way he kept looking at her she was starting to understand a lot more about _heat_.  He told her things she was certain he’d never told anyone before, about his childhood and his family and his life, and she listened to it all with an open heart.  And then he would pause, and look at her, and ask her something, and soon she was also sharing things she had never shared with anyone.

Had no business sharing now, either.  

“It’s a very prestigious program, and my parents were thrilled when I got accepted,” she said, sipping at the delightfully salt-free water in her glass. “But... I don't know anymore.  I just want to make a difference, you know?”

“If you don’t like it, do something else.”

Sansa sighed.  He made it sound so simple, but-

“I don’t know what that would be.”

And that was the truth. For as long as she could remember she had always wanted to be a siren, but now that she was on the cusp of becoming one she couldn’t help but wonder what else was out there.  

Maybe she could be a naiad and help humans instead of… _not_ helping them. Like she was supposed to be doing. Like all the sirens before her had done, as far back in time as anyone could remember. It was a prestigious and honorable position, she _knew_ that, and yet...  

And yet...

His laugh was so very warm and pleasantly raspy, and the more she heard it the less she missed the cool embrace of the ocean, wanted to hold on just a little longer to the fluttery feel of guppies in her tummy.  He seemed to feel the same way since he never made any moves like he wanted it to end. Or rather, any _more_ moves like he wanted it to end, since he’d made plenty when she first started talking to him. When he was just a target and she only talked to him because she was supposed to. Her mind wandered again to the heaps of broken bones on the ocean floor, the jokes the other girls told, the laughter. Someday sirens would gawk at him in the very same way. They would never know anything about the man he was before she’d brought him into the sea. 

She wasn't entirely certain how she felt about that.

“Y’all are missin’ the sunset,” the waitress drawled in her exotic Southern accent. “Sun’s goin’ down.”

Sansa gasped and spun on her stool. Timaeus and Critias _,_ the sun _was_ going down! She was running out of time and she still hadn’t found his weakness, hadn’t layed the trap, hadn’t heard the Magic Words… oh, she had to speed this up.

“Have you seen my keys?” she blurted awkwardly; he gave her a withering look.  

“You didn’t _have_ any keys.”

“Yes, I did,” she insisted, voice thin.  “I must have… lost them? That’s it, I lost them. I lost them!  Will you help me?”

Sansa fluttered her eyelashes and showed him her most pleading, maiden-in-distress look, praying he wouldn’t see through her flirting to the panic underneath. He had to offer to help her now. He had to!  

But he didn’t.

“Why are you acting stupid again?” he said instead; her temper flared.

“I’m not _stupid_. _”_

“I know.”

He… what? How could he… oh, but why should it matter? She was supposed to be luring him into the ocean not courting him, and since she’d totally mangled lessons 2 through 4 she was going to have to nail lesson number 5 to pass the class. _‘Reasonable proficiency,’_ that’s what Olenna said. _'Get him in the water.’_

_‘You know what happens then.’_

_‘Anything will work, ladies.’_

_‘Whatever it takes.’_

“Do you wanna have sex?”

He blinked. Cocked his head. Narrowed his eyes.  

“What’s the catch?”

Sansa threw her arms up.

“You’re gonna have to die afterwards,” she admitted, far too candidly and with a very frustrated sigh because what idiot would agree to sex under _those_ terms? But how could she lie about it when he’d seen through every single one of her lies so far?

“You a siren?”

“Yeah.”

He believed her, she could tell, and- remarkably- he seemed to still be considering her offer, the idea of which thrilled her to the core, sent tiny pulses of electricity swimming over her skin that leeched the breath from her lungs.  But that was nothing compared to the way she felt when his eyes traveled heavily down her body, shamelessly looking her over before making the long crawl back up to her face again.

“Alright.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Water?”

“Yeah.”

Hand in hand they strolled away from the bar, across the boardwalk and out onto the beach, into the twilight where she would finally, finally, seal the deal, and… it was such a nice hand. Strong. Warm. _Safe_ . Soon that hand would be cold and lifeless and for the first time she thought about what that might mean for him, if he would suffer, if he’d be afraid. Thought about those grey eyes being eaten away by unseen creatures, muscles rotting clean from his bones, his voice silenced. Just like the laugh that she’d just gotten used to. And the way his lip would twitch when he teased her. All gone, forever. She would live _without_ him far longer than she’d ever lived _with_ him, and the knowledge stung more than she ever thought it would.

“Or,” she said, and stopped him just shy of the incoming tide. Water crept in fingers up to where they stood, licking at her feet, calling her home. It was so close. She was so _close_. Just get him in the water and it would be done, and she’d pass the class and not have to take it again, not have to think about it again. About _him_ , ever again.  

“Or we could go to your place?”

Those brows shot up again. She knew he knew what she was saying, could see the flicker of understanding in his eyes before he led her back to the boardwalk, Stranger trotting along beside them.

Alright, so she wouldn’t be claiming her target, but Sansa was at peace with the thought and for once only worried about what _new_ things lay in her future, whether she’d get to see Sandor very often, whether her parents would be disappointed. Maybe she could become a caretaker of the reef. Maybe she could be one of the merfolk who practiced medicine. Maybe she really _could_ be a naiad. So many possibilities, she could literally do anything!  

Well, maybe not _anything,_ since there was _no way_ Professor Olenna would ever let her back in Siren School now that she’d failed lesson number six.
    
    
           
                  |"-,_
                  I--(_
                 ,I?8,
                 d|`888.
                d8| 8888b
               ,88| ?8888b
              ,888| `88888b
             ,8888|  8888g8b
            ,88888|  888PX?8b
           ,888888|  8888bd88,
          o8888888| ,888888888
         d8888888P| d888888888b
      _.d888gggg8'| 8gg88888888,
     '\==-,,,,,,,,|/;,,,,,-==;7
     _~\__~~~____...__    __/ _ ~__~ _
    
    
      
    
    

**Author's Note:**

> Pinkolifant wrote a companion piece to this, check it out, it’s wonderful:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/14274222
> 
> And please check out the comic I posted at the beginning, it is the source of inspiration for this fic!


End file.
